This morning’s wattlebird carried a question across the sky — a fleeting shimmer of light and wonder. Inspired by that moment, I found myself chasing the same golden touch through words and image, letting the Dream’s warmth echo the poem’s quiet hope.
Will I Be the One? (a Tanka)
There’s a wattlebird Flying past the golden sun And then I wondered Who will be the chosen one to receive the Midas touch?
And as the wattlebird slips past the golden sun, this song carries the same gentle light forward.
A heavy sky greeted us before breakfast, the clouds shifting and uncertain as we walked beneath the trees. Yet even in that muted light, something brighter seemed to stir behind the grey — a quiet reminder that beyond the darkness, a softer universe is always waiting to break through.
Universe of Light (a Tanka)
Above nature’s trees Behind life’s wavering clouds Beyond the darkness There’s a universe of light Waiting to caress your soul
Where the glow waits behind every wavering cloud. Even here, the universe of light begins to open.
This poem grew from two separate comments I left on Nancy’s site, written almost four weeks apart. Different days, different moods — yet when I revisited them, they seemed to lean toward one another and form a cohesive whole. Stanzas 1 and 2 came from La Casa Azzurra – The Elephant’s Trunk and stanzas 3, 4, and 5 from What’s Left Behind – The Elephant’s Trunk
Fresh shoes for familiar paths — proof enough that this man plans on walking a little further yet.
Over at Weekly Prompts, the weekend challenge is the word “Anxiety”. To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here
This Morning, or This Anxious Man
I woke up this morning, which is always a good thing — with blue surrounding my head, quietly filtering through the blinds from dawn’s levitating, bright blue sky.
I do not need to ask why the tranquil colour blue serendipitously keeps me flying high.
I am who I am. I’m an old man, and I do the best I can.
My dreamworld plan is out of my hands.
I remember how it all began, and here I am — between Cannes and scans, still walking this land.
For the fragments that find each other, the blue mornings, the old roads, and the man who keeps trusting the day ahead.
Midmorning’s Rising Sun Gazing above the usual field of view, high into the cloudy stratosphere, I catch sight of a jetstream’s snowdrops falling from beyond the rising sun’s solar empyrean halo.
Twilight’s Setting Sun Gazing toward the hessian horizon, below the low misty atmosphere, I catch sight of an evanescent cashmere twilight which had serendipitously caught the setting sun’s solar empyrean halo.
Let the final light’s echo carry you from morning’s rise to twilight’s hush, and here’s the song that keeps the halo glowing a little longer.
Definitions: quintessence: noun: the most typical example or representative of a type noun: the purest and most concentrated essence of something noun: the fifth and highest element after air and earth and fire and water; was believed to be the substance composing all heavenly bodies
florescent; flowering; bursting into flower iridescent; the visual property of something having a milky brightness pearlescent; resembling a pearl; having a pearly lustre or sheen opalescent; colourless or white like an opal, or changing colour like an opal. candescent;glowing or starting to glow with heat evanescent; gradually disappears from sight or memory. Senescent; characteristic of old age
Quintessence
Above my florescent sunflowers Twilight’s iridescent sky Of a pearlescent sunset And an opalescent moonrise Animated my candescent world And the evanescent wave of light Revived my senescent eyes
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 